


Dark Island; Island of the Shriekers

by TFALokiwriter



Category: Tremors: Shrieker Island (2020)
Genre: BAMF Burt Gummer, Foreshadowing, Gen, I can do with the rest of the film, There wasn't enough Shrieker scenes, it's just that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27201161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TFALokiwriter/pseuds/TFALokiwriter
Summary: In the cave, Burt faced against the most demonic and skeletal iteration of the Shriekers there ever was. A shadow of what he had fought nearly twenty years ago.
Kudos: 2





	Dark Island; Island of the Shriekers

Burt traveled through the cave searching for his companion through the tunnel of the cave.

"Ramboy?"

Burt called out.

"Boy?"

It was all quite discerning as he slipped out the long machete, no guns, no appealing flame thrower. All of these were elements of not being told critical need to know; information. Yet, Burt was making the best of what he were given and what the locals of the neighboring island had in the former World War 2 fall out shelter.

"Boy?"

Burt looked around at every moment that he had lacking a flamethrower that had to be discarded due to the lack of fuel and need to have it on hand. He couldn't hear with the ear plug in his ear and that made it even more terrifying than the Graboid Queen on the other island feasting on the locals who weren't hiding in the trees. No sound, but yet feeling beneath his feet--he were still tense when it came to the edited life cycle of the Graboid.

"Ramboy?"

A familiar screech made the ground rumble beneath his feet so he slowly turned in the direction of the Shrieker and grimaced. 

"Oh, it's just you; the Devil's folly for a Shrieker." he took out his dagger with a grin. "Come to papa."

Burt watched the three Shriekers, their figures more bony, more sinister, more Hell-ish, and horrific. They weren't as cute or endearing as their unmodified counterparts but more so frightening and a annoyance to the eye in terms of the design but a disaster despite the modifications that had to be executed out of existence.

He watched the flaps on the top of their heads lift up and their shrieking echoing -- a sound that didn't impact into his ears. Burt took off his hat then put it back on as he began to grin fondly recalling the last hand to hand combat with a decent -- and actual quite Shrieker -- in Mexico. The Shriekers were the first to depart on toward Burt with their hideous mouths open preparing to take a bite out of him. _Nope!_

Burt cleanly cut into the top of the Shrieker then punched underneath the strong jaw and watched it fall over landing to the side. Burt flipped over the second Shrieker, sliced the belly open, then was tackled by the third Shrieker that knocked him back. Burt couldn't hear the unfamiliar sound that were not mistakenly the sound of pigs squealing and not the sound of a dog yelping but he could hear their new sound in his mind. The weight was overbearing but But yanked out his dagger then stabbed into the Shrieker's forehead. 

The Shrieker reeled back shaking its head as Burt stepped aside and picked up the machete. He chopped into the side of the Shrieker multiple times until it ceased to move then yanked out the dagger and put it back. Burt took out his handkerchief then wiped off the Shrieker goo, keeping it clean for Jasmine, then put his handkerchief back on including the shades. Burt finished off the second Shrieker that he hadn't finished in killing watching it squirm and shake it's head, jaw opened, pleading for help that wouldn't come. 

Burt chopped the Shrieker's heart in half with a single blow then he yanked out the dagger and tossed it in the direction ahead. Another Shrieker ran on ahead toward Burt with it's forehead appendage up then the old man promptly charged at it with a yell, machete in hand, then greeted it head on with a punch to underneath the beak and proceeded to chop it quickly and thoroughly. Burt yanked out the dagger and put it back into the sheath. He turned around about to raise the machete but stopped upon observing it were Jimmy shielding himself. 

"There you are!"

Jimmy was speaking but no words were coming forth.

"What are you saying?" Burt took out a ear plug.

"Did you just punch a Shrieker?" Jimmy asked, incredlously.

"I have fought in hand to hand combat with them twenty years ago." Burt said. "Not my first punch."

"That's why you're so renowned!" Jimmy exclaimed.

"With reflexes trained for this instance takes years, don't kid yourself, boy." Burt said. "You're never going to be as good as I am."

"The student will never be as good as the teacher for Shrieker hunting." Jimmy agreed with a nod then laughed. "You're one of a kind. Maybe I can make myself---"

"My protege is in Mexican jail and he is the only man I can consider up to par." Burt held his hand up to his level then lowered his hand down to his side. "You are a biologist," he shook his finger back at him. "not a survivalist."

Jimmy frowned, puckering his lips, insulted but not quite deterred.

"Is there any leadership skills in being a Graboid Hunters?" Jimmy asked. "I got all the leadership skills down flat."

Burt shook his head; so young, so willing to throw himself into danger for others, so ready to get up to the plate. _Hell so inexperenced but becoming experienced quite quickly, just like me_. Except, with a combination like that; Jimmy would go out like a supernova and have nothing to teach others. Burt put a hand on Jimmy's shoulder then shook his head, somberly.

"It's just surviving the event, Ramboy."

"But, I was taught it was all about being a role model."

Burt withdrew his hand with a sigh. 

"It's not about winning, being a hero, it has NOTHING to do with that!"

"Then what good does it do being a leader fighting against Graboids? All for vain? No recognizition--"

" **NOTHING**!"

Burt roared with a finger stabbing into the younger man's chest and he towered over Jimmy, almost menacingly, his dark shades almost reflecting the stormy and violent but destructive tsunami inside.

"Not expecting to be revered--it's just _surviving_." he withdrew his hand then clenched his hands. "They change all the time!"

"Reall---"

"You survive the first event, you may not survive the second event, and if you do survive that one then you may not survive the next one!"

"Well, you--"

"BY SHEER LUCK!"

"Mr Gummer, you seem to have a lot---"

"It's a whole new ball game every time for the last thirty years and people seem TO FORGET ABOUT PEOPLE DYING SO EASILY BECAUSE IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THEM! So being a leader in times like these has no advantages, boy. Never has. Never will. The point of fighting against a damn Graboid is to survive it."

"But your leadershi--"

"There is no leadership skills." Burt was quiet, a death glare through his lens that silenced Jimmy as the point was then made. "Just team work skills and supplies and dumb luck."

Burt walked on and Jimmy walked on after him.

"Let's regroup with the others." Burt kept one ear plug in. "We have a Queen Graboid to kill!"

Burt flung a dagger and a pig squeal was heard.

"Stupid Shriekers eating fish." Burt said as he took out the machete. "Ramboy,--"

"Get the soft spots!" Jimmy announced.

Burt and Jimmy ran after the Shrieker that abruptly turned away then ran, squealing, from them all the way back to the boat. Jimmy tackled the Shrieker to the ground with a simple lunge then Burt kicked off the creature that squealed in distress laying on its side as it got back up to it's feet. Burt gave a good whack to the side of the Shrieker that leaped right at him so Jimmy held the chainsaw up between the older man and the Shrieker right in the path that it got sliced in half. Burt picked up the dagger then slid it back into the sheath.

Burt moved to the young man's side with a machete in hand as they waited for reinforcements for a series of long moments. It was very intense standing at the opening of the cave just waiting for Shriekers as their muscles were all tense. Slowly, they went to the water's edge and cleaned the mud off their skin. They took turns cleaning themselves and keeping a watch out as the mud was washed off then get aboard the boat and approach their destiny in a disaster made only by Bill the very deceased hunter himself.

It all felt like a tragedy was in the making with a boy with a burning desire to be a leader by his side.

And someone would pay for such a disaster.


End file.
